


That Damn Shirt

by CaptainVivi



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 11:18:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7506232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainVivi/pseuds/CaptainVivi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A drabble born from multiple depictions of Mchanzo art featuring a red checkered shirt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Damn Shirt

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this quickly so sorry for errors. Also what the hell I had no clue about this ship, looked down for 2 seconds and suddenly my life is filled with a high noon of rainbows, arrows, bullets and tumbleweed.

Hanzo hated that damn shirt. 

He was certain that that stupid red checkered shirt would haunt him past death because wherever one Jesse McCree settled it would appear as if by magic on his body during any possible downtime. From what he had gathered the monstrosity had been in the mans possession for a solid number of years and held some sentimental or monetary value judging by the care and concern Jesse bestowed upon it, once meticulously sewing two buttons back on after a heated intimate moment between them left Hanzo to decide that the cowboy wasn’t getting naked fast enough. Not to mention it was the only item of clothing he had ever seen neatly folded in the constant mess that was Jesse’s quarters.

It was the eve of McCree’s return from a mission that Hanzo found himself laying awake and uncomfortable that he decided to surprise his boyfriend and greet him home in the morning in his own bed. With ease he silently made his way to the others room, instantly relaxed by the familiar smokey scent he could only associate with one person.

The state didn’t last long when his eyes landed on the bed. There it was folded and waiting for it’s masters return, that damn shirt.

Picking it up Hanzo inspected the garment as if it would give him answers but after several minutes of silence and no new knowledge he moved onto plan B and threw it on. Before doing up a single button he noticed how soft the fabric was from wear and how perfectly it smelt of Jesse.

With his returned calm he quickly climbed into bed and closed his eyes, determined to get answers in the morning.

—

‘Ain’t that a pretty picture to come home to.’

The soft southern drawl pulled Hanzo from the peaceful land of slumber and back to the waking world, now with his love sitting on the side of the bed next to him.

‘G’morning dahling,’ A warm smile and lingering kiss followed, Jesse’s hand cupping the shorter man’s cheek to maintain contact, a tradition after an absence.

‘Good morning. I assume the mission went well?’ Hanzo replied, feeling more comfortable than he had in days from one touch.

‘With me on the team it’s a done deal.’ Cocky as always and with the patent grin Hanzo couldn’t help but smile back, feeling the sharpshooters hand travel down his neck to rest on his collarbone.

’This shirt does look mighty fine on you.’ The compliment accompanied with a low whistle reminded Hanzo of his own mission, taking his chance to inquire.

‘Why is this shirt so important to you?’ A simple, quick question.

‘Well,’ Jesse began, his mechanical hand shyly slipping behind to scratch the back of his own neck. ‘I was wearing it when we first met. And when we first kissed. And then when we first…’ The up and down movement of his eyebrows easily letting it be known what he was referring to.

‘Honestly this old thing is special to me because you’re special to me.’

With no words and a blush quickly forming across his cheeks Hanzo pulled Jesse down with him to bed, determined to show the man how special he was to him.

Okay, so maybe he loved that damn shirt.


End file.
